


blue is the colour of trouble

by Lee_Mix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which sweet Marinette leads Adrien Agreste into a rebellious night on the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blue is the colour of trouble

Yonder to the edge of his father’s estate, lay a city bursting with colours of life. Hues of gold stretched across the buildings, wrapping it in a warm glow and allowing the lifeblood of the city to explode. From a distance, he could hear the streets humming their song that he could barely even get access to a second-hand taste from pixelated scraps off of the radio. 

Adrien sighed, leaning further on the sill of his window. Sometimes, his life truly didscream the essence of the “lonely rich kid” stereotype.

“ _Psst! Adrien!_ ”

His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his chin off of his hand. “What…?” Adrien glanced around. “Is… someone there?”

“ _Look down! Over here!”_

Hesitantly, he complied with the voice’s request, and almost did a double-take at the sight.

Close to midnight, stood at the bottom of his garden, and decked out in warm winter wools (consisting of; a burgundy beret and dress, black stockings, cream wrap, and brown ankle boots–a majority of it being hand-made, he guessed), stood the person he had least expected to see.

_Marinette._

True, the two of them  _were_ the identities of Paris’s latest spandex-wearing superheroes; vigilante youths of the night, leaping about with careless abandon and surviving on night oil and an onslaught of terrible puns about their namesake, but  _this_ was different.

She wasn’t Ladybug. She was… just  _Marinette._

 _(Not that was an especially_ bad  _thing…)_

“Why are you…?” 

Marinette gave pause, and he watched her. From the slight blush that graced her cheeks, scuffing the sole of her boot into the grass, she seemed to be hesitating on her original goal. Adrien was honestly curious at the thoughts potentially spinning around in her head.

Yet that very same determination came back to her. Flooding in those eyes of hers as she gazed back up at him, and he was caught in the sea of perseverance from those glinting jewels for eyes that refused to look away from him.

She held out a hand and grinned.  _“I’m here to show you the place in this city where all your dreams will come true. So,”_ he shivered at the mischievous glint in her eyes.  _“Will you follow me tonight, kitty cat?”_

 

* * *

 

“Ssh! Quick, before my father sees us!”

Their feet hit the overturned flagstones of his polished cage, and the barely stifled giggles merely took up the gap between their lips and their hands as they broke out into a run.

(” _We could just transform. We don’t have to sneak through like we’ve stolen something.”_ A voice in the back of his head nagged

“ _But where would the fun be in that?”_ He argued back.)

Marinette turned on her heel, pivoted, and grabbed his hand. “Then we’d best run as if our  _lives_ depended on it!”

“ _Mine probably will…!”_ He laughed as she yanked him along into the cityscape, and the cage doors flew open.

(Well, it was more a small hole in the wall covered up by an ornate rosebush, but he wanted to be poetic.)

* * *

  
Seeing the city at night without the guise of a mask (or Plagg’s little voice at the back of his mind) had been a sensation he would  _never_ forget. Or at least, one he hoped would be quite content to rest in his mind until it sparked life no more.

Scenes that had once been a battleground, formed ornate and abstract visions in his head. Winding views blessed with a darkened vision lit up by the stars that seemed to guide the way. Everything about the landscape–from the high buildings; to the illuminated graffiti that lit up the walls; the dancers moving in such a way that birds would be jealous; and street performers filling the corners of the street with music so tangible he could almost  _taste_ the notes on his tongue and reflect them in human speech. 

“Adrien?”

He turned around, and saw her, dustings of snow landing on her shoulder, and a smile so bright it made his heart stop.

For it was  _she_ was the true work of art and had brought him out of a gilded cage of ignorance and into a place where life had been  _breathed_ into a city.

 _Marinette,_ went his unfortunate lucky heart, beating with the rhythm of her name.  _Marinette, Marinette, Marinette._

He touched her shoulders and pulled her in close.

“I’m cold, Mari.” He whispered, low enough that he could feel her shiver for reasons  _other_ than the temperature. “Keep me warm?”

 

* * *

 

“And what can I get for the lovely couple?”

Marinette ducked her head and squeezed his hand under the table.

After their small stroll through a tiny backstreet, they had stumbled across a small, corner cafe that was fortunately still open for business. The oaken feel and warm throw rugs were a welcome distraction from the cold, and the excuse to spend more time with  _her?_

Even more welcome.

“I’ll have a…” He felt a blush spread across his face as the request tumbled out. “Latte. With extra cream, if possible, please…?”

His ears went hot when Marinette snorted, barely containing it as she ordered her own hot chocolate (with a vanilla shot). 

“You really  _are_ a kitty, aren’t you?”

He poked her knees, earning a gasp.

“Hush, you.” He grinned, making  _her_ face hot. “We all have our weaknesses. It’s not my fault two of them happen to be in the same place.”

“Two?”

“Of course.” He closed his eyes and leant back. “Cream, and you looking positively  _purrfect._ ”

The squeak that followed from her lips, even if it cost him her hand, was  _worth_ it.

 

* * *

 

“Come on!”

Often, he wasn’t pulled into the fray of things. Everything was planned out in advance.

Perhaps that was why he fell in love with the idea of Ladybug. A wild card of a hero, relying on wits and charm, adaptation and planning. She was unpredictable, and he craved the essence of that.

But she was so much  _more_ than the idealised version of her that he had built in his head. For she was both Ladybug  _and_ Marinette: a clumsy, goofy, beautiful oddity that he could wrap up and delightfully call  _his._ And she could do the same, and her unwavering loyalty and generosity and kindness and… 

“Let’s go! It looks like fun!”

And seeing  _her,_ lit up by golden hues of the Eiffel Tower, watching her hair blow around in the wind free of the usual pigtails and the  _smile_ that curved her red lips as she pulled him by his hands to spin around and dance like nobody was watching them…

Oh, dear, he was  _completely taken with her._

And he  _loved_ it. 

 

* * *

 

Then, there were the rare, scant moments where his entire  _world_ melted into nothing but  _her._

He could faintly feel the aged bricks of the wall crumble as she pressed his back against it, and someone saves his poor, rabbit heart for the way she was claiming his mouth with hers.

She was humming as he slowly sucked on her bottom lip–and somewhere in him was ecstatic that  _he_ was making  _her_ make those noises, and that, oh, his poor head was just  _poisoned_ by that look in her electric blue eyes, so dangerous and daring and–and she was getting  _closer_ to him, and he wasn’t even sure he was breathing proper  _air_ anymore, just her.

The sensations overrode him at some point, and–no,  _no,_ his legs were buckling.

His Lady was ever so vigilant, and–

_Oh._

_Oh… oh…_

She had hoisted him closer to her, and she didn’t even seem bothered when his legs wrapped around her waist and his arms flung around her neck. 

He almost  _whimpered_ when she broke the contact and stared at him.

 _Stared_ at him with those eyes.

“Didn’t realise you were so clingy, kitty…”

He could barely breathe. “Is… is that a  _problem?_ ”

Her smile softened. “Nope. May I continue?”

 _“_ ** _Please_.** ”

Her lips were back on his in mere seconds, and once again, he had forgotten how to breathe anything but her. 

(Not that he was _complaining_ , of course.)

 

* * *

 

Then, the quiet moments came. 

The few, short hours wrapped up in an embrace of young love, and the undeniable faith that the two souls placed in it. Something so raw and fierce, but could die as quickly as a burning ember.

Marinette sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder, legs dangling off the side of the canal. Adrien smiled, and wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in closer.

 _Hopefully, we’ll be the rare few that last until our time is up._  

 

* * *

 

Seeing her hesitating in letting him go patched up his shattering heart, and he wasn’t sure whether to kiss her senseless or ground her in the obvious reality that they would see each other the next morning.

Either way, watching her crestfallen face as they reached the edge of the gardens of the Agreste household was enough to make him reconsider  _every_ single one of his thoughts.

Adrien bit his lip, before reaching to take her hands. “Call me when you get home?”

The smile on her face was infectious, and enough to spark some hope again.

“Sure. Good night, kitty.”

A peck on the cheek and she had run off into the night.

 

* * *

 

_“…but yeah, I got home okay. It was sort of hard, getting to the balcony without waking my Papa up, but… it was still worth it.”_

Face hot, he rolled onto his back and covered his cheeks. “…Heh.”

_“Aww, kitty, are you blushing?”_

Adrien wasn’t about to let her get away with teasing him  _again._ “And if I was?”

_“W-Well. Uh.”  
_

“Aww, my Lady, are you embarrassed?”

_“Sh-shut up. A-Anyway, you need to go to sleep now! We have that project due in tomorrow.”  
_

_…_

“Mari…?”

“ _Mm_?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re one of the most important people in the world to me, that I think you’re the most beautiful thing on this planet, and that I hope we stay together for the rest of our lives? Call me crazy, but I think that means you’re the love of my life?”

_“…”_

“Mari?”

When he heard a hitched sob through the phone, something his heart melted.

“ _Why do you always come out with the sappiest… oh, I can’t lecture you for that. Call **me** crazy, but I feel the same way about you. I’m just… just sorry I can’t put it in the same terms as you.”_

Oddly, his own vision began to blur, and he felt something wet streak from his eyes and down his cheeks. 

“…Knowing you feel the same is enough, my Lady. It always has been.”

_And it always will be._

 


End file.
